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by aya-kun.zeroaddicted
Summary: Jason wakes up to a nightmare and finds himself inside a coffin.


Jason wakes up to a nightmare. He's in a coffin.

At first he denies this. Knocking hard on the wood. Why was he here? And then the pain from the beating he took earlier came through his fear. Probably some broken ribs, it hurt to breath. But nothing else was in pain. Then he remembered the gas that had penetrated through his broken helmet. It had been stupid to have gotten caught like that. He'd been feeling brash after encountering Batman. His former mentor looking down at him from his moral high ground.

Jason pounded again on the wood…He heard that lack of an echo. He can feel it now too. It was the same…The lack of air, the smell of earth around him. It was the same.

But this time…This time he knows. He knows no one will be there when he gets out.

And he will…

He could…

He should.

But that thought stays with him. And suddenly tired, he slowly stops hitting the wood, slowly stops thinking of ways to get out.

No one will be there…

So what was the point? Even though he knew he wasn't in the coffin because he was dead or that he'd just died, Jason couldn't find a reason to get himself out.

He'd had purpose before when he'd dug himself out back then. And just because he remembered, he checked himself but he'd been stripped of anything useful. Not even a belt.

Giving a small laugh, Jason now truly felt there was nothing. Nothing to help him. No one to do the same.

God, he was so tired.

Even though he was still feeling the pain on his body, not even that could get a rise out him. There was no anger at this.

At himself.

At Bruce.

At the world in general.

And unlike before there was no wild desperation to go home. Back to the manor, back to his room…Was it even still his now? He didn't think he was welcomed there anymore anyway. So what was home? His empty safe house-slash-apartment? The old one where'd lived with his mom Catherine? Sheila had become nothing but a name now. A civilian who'd gone bad. He didn't even know if he'd even want to see her. And she was also dead. So it didn't really matter. Abandoned rooms and empty alleys in crime alley weren't exactly home either when he'd been by himself.

Breathing slower now, Jason thought about Bruce and the others.

He didn't think he could call for Bruce this time. He'd been a failure already before he even died. He'd probably be glad he didn't have to deal with him anymore. No more lecturing, no more disappointments. Bruce wouldn't be forced to see him anymore. (Why hadn't he just left Gotham anyway?)

Thinking of Nightwing… _maybe_ Dick might feel bad but he'd get over it. Even being the most un-repressed person in the fami- group (hell, he was the only one), the acrobat was circus enough that he could move on. Easily. Even with his bleeding heart Dick could do it. He'd done it before. Jason wasn't even going to be resentful about it this time.

Replacement was a bit harder to understand but they weren't close enough that he'd be mourned. Working together on occasion did not a friend make. Although, he was glad now to have him take on the Red Robin name. At least it let Batman of Earth 51's legacy continue even if no one else knew that.

Demon brat would probably be glad though. They may have shared in the pain and disappointment of knowing Talia and Bruce's high expectations but even that felt like it was more of the kid's burden now than his. They hadn't really interacted much either. Although…knowing someone who knew what it was like to kill and know it had to be done was a kind of relief. He'd received no moral high grounds from him. Just snobbery. Jason snorted as he thought of the brat.

Eyes closing, he wondered what staying dead might be like.

* * *

It took them only minutes, long and painful, agonizing minutes that seemed to stretch into hours for them to dig him out.

Finally, _finally,_ they brought the coffin out and unlocked it. Damn thing wasn't only made of wood which made them even more nervous, no one could have dug their way through that (it was painful enough just knowing that Jason had done it before. Had needed to do it).

When they opened the lid, they grew still to see him just lying there.

No! It hadn't been that long. The fresh earth had only just been placed.

It shouldn't be too late. It shouldn't!

But then looking at him, something didn't feel right and they looked closely at Jason. There were no tears on his hands, no bruising except for what came from knocking people down. The coffin held no marks either, no scratches, no indentations. Jason, like his cage (and it was) remained whole and mainly unbroken.

But that was just physically. The look on his face, frowning and resigned made it difficult for them to breath.

He hadn't tried to get out.

Why?

Why?!

"Check him!"

It was Damian who snapped out of it first.

Bruce pulled off his gloves and tried to feel for a pulse. He brought his son's face close to his ear, desperate to hear him breathing.

Dick reached out to comb back Jason's hair. "Little Wing…"

"B?" Tim asked, his voice cracked.

Bruce closed them out, moved his fingers, held him closer…

…Please.

Not again. Not now.

"…Please." Bruce didn't realize he'd spoken aloud, focusing only on finding any sign of life. Please!

…There!

"Call Leslie."

No one moved. "Now!" he shouted as he carried Jason to the car.

"I have you son." Strapping the emergency face mask on him, he told him, "Stay with me. Stay with us."

* * *

Jason slowly woke up. But he kept his eyes closed, afraid he'd see only fire and brimstone like those bible thumping crazies preached about. He didn't think he deserved heaven but hell wasn't really his top destination either. His life had already been nothing but so couldn't he get something else for a change? Please?

Of course it didn't really matter since, breathing deeply, he didn't really feel any of that heat or smell in that description.

He opened his eyes slowly but the only thing he could see was white. And then it cleared, it was still white but he recognized this kind of white. Blinking to adjust to the bright lights, Jason stared at the dirty ceiling and looking around, he saw that the same white was on the walls, curtains, the sheets on his bed.

Clinic. He even saw a familiar crack in the ceiling. Jeez, hadn't Leslie ever fixed that? Maybe it came back? Like he, apparently, did.

Hearing now a steady beep, he turned and saw a small monitor beside his bed, the lines going jagged with each beep, with each beat of his heart.

He _was_ alive.

Huh.

...

How?

Heavy breathing made him turn to the opposite side.

Eyes going wide, he thought he stopped breathing again. He could hear and feel his heart pick up the pace.

What? He blinked. How? He couldn't believe it. _Why?_

He didn't realize he'd spoken. With his voice cracking, throat all dry, Jason looked at a sleeping Bruce.

* * *

Bruce had been dreaming. Of the old days. Of a tire iron coming at him. Of happy laughter echoing in the cave. Of an impatient bird eager to fly.

Jason dressed in his Robin uniform looked at him and asked "Why?"

Why? Didn't he want to fly?

But Bruce frowned. The voice had been deeper and dry.

Blinking awake, he could now hear the heart monitor making quicker beeps than he was used to hearing these past couple of days.

And then he could see blue green eyes staring at him. Bruce felt his own heart pick up at the near resignation on his son's face, at the almost empty fire in those eyes.

Why?

That question and its answer was the only thing stopping that fire from going out. To see such naked hope on Jason's face...a hope he was losing with each quiet second.

Bruce reached out to him quickly but carefully. Words wouldn't be enough. Holding him close, careful of the wires, the IV, he told him, "Because you're my son, you're family."

And when those arms, those arms that used to be so much smaller held him back, Bruce wished again that he'd been there. It was bad enough he didn't make it the first time but that he wasn't even there the second time Jason needed him was just too much. And last night, he -they had almost lost him. Again.

"Come home." No that wasn't quite right. His son was back now.

Leaning back to look at his face, Bruce gave a small smile. Carefully wiping tears he knew were reflected in his own, he said, "Welcome home."

* * *

I claim nothing.

I wasn't in high spirits when I wrote this. It wasn't a good day but at I atleast wanted this to end okay.

Hope it makes sense. No beta. I know nothing about proper medical procedure for what happened to him. Also, I just wanted the drama of that heart monitor.

U: Eye color is always mostly blue but green comes in too so I now just copped out and said blue green. Either way Jay is Jay.


End file.
